Empty
by Silvia Blake
Summary: Prowl disappeared along with the crew of the Heluxis three vorns ago. One mega-cycle ago a team of Autobot infiltrators entered a Decepticons facility, killed its guards, and retrieved the data necessary to their mission. They also found Prowl.


Prowl, SIC of the Autobot army and captain of the Heluxis, disappeared en route to Cybertron from Kimia three vorns ago. There were no distress beacons placed, or emergency messages sent, and upon inspection of the route taken by the Heluxis, no clues left as to the whereabouts, or what happened. The search, headed by TIC Jazz, and manned by the Spec-Ops branch of the Autobot military and any volunteer willing, turned up nothing. Two vorns ago the search ended, and reluctantly Optimus Prime listed the crew of the Heluxis MIA, Fifth Tier Priority. One mega-cycle ago a crack team of Autobot infiltrators entered a Decepticon facility, killed its guards, and retrieved the data necessary to their mission. Within the cells of the Decepticon base, deep beneath the crust of the planetoid the Autobots also found the body of Prowl, but not the mind.

Nano-klik = 1 second

Klik = 1.2 minutes

Cycle = 1 hour 15 minutes

Mega-cycle = 93 hours (3.875 days)

Deca-cycle = 3 weeks

Stellar-cycle = 7.5 months

Meta-cycle = 13 months

Vorn = 83 years

* * *

><p><strong><span>One Vorn Ago<span>**

The Praxian stared at the ceiling. It was gray. It had cracks... Something was wrong. Why was he here? Struggling with his own processor for his answer felt fundamentally wrong. When was it anyway, and why couldn't he remember where he was?

Why did it matter?

Blue optics brightened in surprise at the sudden question. Was that his voice? It didn't sound like his voice. It was too monotone. But it was in his head so it had to be his voice didn't it? Of course it did. Of course. Of course?

...Of course.

Something was wrong. Why was he here? He'd thought that only moments before hadn't he? No, of course not, otherwise he wouldn't have asked himself again. Of course.

You're on the Ark.

Another flicker of blue optics as that strange, had to be his voice since it was in his head but wasn't, gave him an answer. He was on the Ark? But what was the Ark? Was the Ark a ship, or a city? How come he wasn't at home? Wait, did he have a home? Of course he had a home. Everyone had a home. Who was everyone?

Soundwave could have screamed. He had the Autobot SIC here, in his clutches, processor an open book to be picked through, and read, and the blinkered glitch didn't have a single thought worth sharing. It was like having the finest highgrade waved in front of his optics only to discover the refining process had stripped it of all flavor, and nutrients.

The Communications Officer stood from his seat next to the bound form of Prowl, and whipped out a fist in a rare show of temper. The Praxian's head snapped to the side, and his thoughts screeched to a halt for a moment before picking up again. It was the same inane chatter as before only this time Prowl was wondering why he hurt.

For the first time in hundreds of vorns Soundwave lost control. Blow after blow rained down upon the inert body of Prowl, but the SIC never cried out, or seemed to acknowledge the pain with anything, but a puzzled expression. When Soundwave finally stopped, vents panting, knuckle plates bent, and visor blinding, he felt cold.

He'd been so close to finally breaking the stubborn zealot. The secrets of the Autobots had been but one mental block away, and now they were gone forever. Soundwave slumped back into his seat. Underestimating Prowl had been a folly Soundwave thought himself above, but as he looked at the broken body of the former Auotbot SIC he realized how wrong he'd been. Loyal as he was to the Decepticon cause he would never wipe his memories, and shatter his personality. Giving false information, and playing mind games were a given, but ripping apart his own mind? Never, not even for Megatron.

As he stared at the empty shell of a once respected, and equally hated adversary, the chill that had set into his limbs crept into his spark. After all this time Prowl had won. He had lost.

Just on the edge of his awareness Soundwave heard a cold, sparkless laugh.

It was a long time before Soundwave moved again. The cold that had settled itself in his spark had turned sharp as his hatred for the Praxian rose. He refused to be beaten by an ignorant shell. Refused to be mocked by this half-dead creature. He would find a use for it even if he had to break it down into parts to give to Hook. He would win! It seemed to take a great effort, but Soundwave stood, and slowly circled the table.

The poor creature didn't have its memories anymore, at least none that would tell it what, or who, it was. The coding, and subroutines that had once been the source of envy for many a tactician was gone. Programs that had taken vorns to meticulously write into perfection had been shredded beyond repair. Every bit of software that had once been lauded as the best had been consumed by Prowl's virus, but the hardware remained.

Soundwave stopped circling at the foot of the restraint berth, and gazed at Prowl's former body. Every Decepticon worth his battle plans knew that Prowl had a one of a ind battle computer. No one knew who'd built it, where it came from, or exactly why it had been put into a Praxian frame rather than an Iaconian, but that only made it more desirable.

Visor flashing Soundwave rested his hands on the berth, and drummed his fingers thoughtfully. Perhaps he could still get use out of Prowl after all. A smile spread across Sounwave's lips beneath his mask as he turned, and exited the cell. There was work to be done.

It wasn't every day that one got their hands on the Autobot SIC was it?


End file.
